


strikhedonia

by ratassotoole



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:53:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratassotoole/pseuds/ratassotoole
Summary: strikhedonia: the plesure taken in saying "to hell with it!"sarah has been at boarding school for weeks when jack recives the letter he knew was coming. he is alone again, and without sarah's attention keeping him company, he tries to start a new relationship with his best friend to keep himself occupied. it doesn't exactly go well when he starts realizing his feelings that he may have had all along.
Relationships: Crutchie/Jack Kelly





	1. chapter i

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first fic on here so it's probably bad. also apologies about the bad summary and enjoy <3
> 
> TW: the word queer is used. there is some period-typical homophobia throughout the story.

It was dark in the lodging house. Jack was still awake. 

4 weeks. He'd been counting. 4 weeks since Sarah broke up with him. 

He had believed he loved her. And maybe he did. The butterflies in his stomach whenever she was around, the idea of her smile making him weak. He would go out of his way to see her every time he had the chance, and while it annoyed Davey, he did what he could to keep the peace. Jack hated to admit it, but he saw a future with Sarah, one where they both ran away to Santa Fe and lived a life together.

When Sarah explained that's not what she wanted, it hit Jack hard. He'd been planning blindly, not knowing what she wanted and failing to take her feelings into consideration. She explained this all in the letter he'd recieved from her boarding school. 

She'd been given the opportunity to go to school, which was something she'd always wanted. She talked of making her mother proud, and showing her father what she was capable of. She loved the idea of growing up and becoming educated, so when she was accpeted to a boarding school in Philidelphia, she jumped at the opportunity. Jack knew what this probably meant for their relationship. He was not surpirsed when he got the letter.

Sarah's family was apologetic, even if Les didn't nessecarily understand what was going on. He just knew Jack was sad, and that's what kept him at his side. For Jack, Les gave him something to do. The strike had been over for the same 4 weeks, and Jack was getting bored. The relationship he had was Sarah had been giving him something to wake up for, and now that that was gone, taking care of Les was something to do. Sure, he had interveiws with the press sometimes, and he had his friends to hang out with, but things just felt bland and boring. 

Jack probably felt some sort of duty to Les since Sarah was gone, and Les had connected Sarah and Jack in his mind. It wasn't Jack's fault that she broke it off, he knew, but he couldn't help feeling that it was.

Crutchie slept in the bed next to Jack's, and Jack (who was awake and alert) could hear him muttering in his sleep. It didn't sound good. He leaned over to reach out and shake Crutchie awake. 

"Ah!" Crutchie shot up, his head almost hitting the bunk above him. "Jack?" 

"Yeah," said Jack, and swung his legs off the side of his bed to look at Crutchie. "I think yous was havin' a nightmare or somethin'." 

Crutchie nodded. "I have those often," he whispered. Jack looked at him sympathetically.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked. Crutchie nodded. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine," he said. He looked at Jack, making eye contact, and Jack felt his chest jolt. 

He missed having someone to love. A thousand thoughts raced through his head. Crutchie could be the person. And besides, he had heard some things from the Delanceys about Crutchie being a queer, so he had a shot. They were also very, very close.

"Crutchie?" Jack said, having made his decision. 

"Yeah?" Crutchie yawned.

"Y'know what the Delanceys say about ya?" 

"Oh, Jack. Ya really believe that?" 

Jack swallowed his pride. He had a plan, and it was going to work out in his favor. 

"I'd like to," he said. 

Crutchie looked at Jack and said, "What do ya mean?" 

"I mean...I'm the same way, and..." 

Crutchie looked down. "You're pullin' my leg," he said. "Someone told ya I was sweet on ya and you're takin' advantage of it."

Jack knew only part of that was true. Nobody had told him anything. 

"No, Crutch. Look at me." 

Crutchie looked at Jack again and Jack put a hand on his face. "May I?" 

Crutchie's face was red, even in the dark. He nodded. Jack leaned in and closed the disance between them, leaning off his bed. He hadn't kissed anyone since Sarah left, and it was good to feel again. 

Someone stirred in their bed. 

Jack and Crutchie quickly pulled away from each other. Crutchie giggled quietly. 

"Someone's awake," he hissed into the darkness. 

"I can tell," Jack smiled. For once in a while, he felt actually happy. He hoped it wasn't a fake happiness, but kissing Crutchie at least brought a slight bit of joy back into his life. "Sleep," he said. 

"I'll try," Crutchie whispered. "G'night, Jacky." 

"Goodnight, Crutch," said Jack, and he climbed back into his bed. His chest hummed with excitment. Maybe he did have feelings for Crutchie after all. He was too tired to think anymore; he'd been living in his head the whole night. It was dark, and everything was still, with the exception of Jack's pounding heart.


	2. chapter ii

Jack smoothed his hair back in the mirror, turning to look at himself from all angles. He smiled. He had an interview with the press today, his last, so he was gonna make it the best yet. 

Before anyone else even woke up, he went to the spot the journalist had told him, which was a small French restaurant right near the Brooklyn bridge. The journalist was someone he'd never met before, so he was hoping to make a good impression. 

When Jack arrived, a younger man was sitting at one of the outside tables, waiting for him. 

"Hello," said the man, and Jack nodded in response. Jack stuck out his hand and said, 

"Kelly. Jack Kelly." 

"It's nice to finally meet you, Jack." said the journalist, and Jack nodded again. He sat down after shaking the man's hand. It was still a little cold, since it was the morning, but it was overcast and slightly windy, Jack's favorite weather. What could go wrong on a fine day such as today?

Jack sat there and answered the usual questions about the strike. He gave Davey credit where credit was due, and the other boys too. He was asked what it was like, talking to Pulitzer, one of the most respected men in New York, and he gave his usual answer of, "Awh, he was nice and all, but I rather spend time with other people at my own level, ya know?" 

It was the last question that caught him off-guard. 

"There was a girl with you," said the journalist. "How are you and she doing?" 

Jack swallowed hard. They were, obviously, not doing well. "Well," Jack said. "We ain't doin' the greatest. Listen. Tell her, if she's readin' this, that I'm missin' her more every day." 

The journalist nodded. "Ah, you're a romantic?" 

"I wasn't until I met her." 

~

Later the next afternoon, after Jack sold a few papers (that he proudly pointed his name out in), he walked back into the lodging house to tell the boys to read the interveiw. He had one last pape in his hand, opened to the page his name was on. 

Instead of all the other boys, Jack walked in to see Crutchie sitting on his bed, reading the paper. 

"Heya, Crutchie," said Jack, and Crutchie looked up. There were tears in his eyes. 

"Whoa whoa," Jack said. "What's got ya down?" 

"Missin' her more every day, huh?" said Crutchie. Jack mentally swore at himself. He knew there was something in the back of his mind nagging him not to say that, but he said it anyways and now the problem had arisen. 

"Crutchie..." said Jack. 

"So it meant nothin'. You kissed me," Crutchie said, "and it meant nothin." 

"No, Crutch, I-" 

Crutchie closed his eyes. "I like you, Jack Kelly. A lot. And yous aware of it. So tell me who is it really that ya think about?" 

Jack dropped the paper in his hand. God. He had to go talk to Davey.

He left the lodging house, Crutchie calling after him, and walked into the street.


	3. chapter iii

Jack knocked on Davey’s window, and Les answered, a huge smile on his face. 

“Jack!” said Les. Jack nodded. 

“Listen, Les, I need you to get Davey for me. I gotta talk to him.” 

Les nodded, and yelled for Davey, who walked into the room quickly. Jack motioned for Davey to come out onto the fire escape.

“Can’t I hear?” asked Les. Davey sensed the urgency of the situation and shook his head. 

“I’ll tell ya later, Les,” he said, knowing that probably wouldn’t happen. Davey climbed out onto the fire escape and stood next to Jack.

“Listen, Davey,” Jack said once the window closed. “I got somethin’ to tell you. And ya can’t tell anyone, alright?”

Davey sighed. “Jack, is this about Crutchie?” 

Jack looked at Davey, shocked. “How’d ya know?” 

“I come into the lodging house to see who’s there, and it’s just Crutchie, and he’s reading the papes…” Davey said quietly. “You’re unable to make a choice, and you’re comin’ to me for help.”

“Well, Dave,” Jack started, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Davey was right, Jack did need his help. “Got any advice?”

“Well, Sarah broke up with you, Jack.”

“I know, but what if I still do love her?” 

Davey sighed and looked across the street. “Listen, Jack. You’ve only ever cared about three people in your life. Yourself, Sarah, and Crutchie. I seen the way you look at him, which is why I was surprised you got with Sarah in the first place. But if you do still love Sarah, my advice is to do somethin’ to get her off your mind.” 

Jack nodded. 

“And ‘somethin’ doesn’t include kissing random people,” Davey added. 

Jack chuckled, “Well damn, what am I supposed to do then?” 

Davey and Jack both erupted into laughter. Davey looked at Jack with a smile and said, “Jack, in all seriousness, I want you to think. Think a lot. Think about whether or not you want Crutchie like that, okay?” 

“I will.”

“Good.”

Jack climbed down the fire escape and went to his prime thinking place: Medda’s. She could always help him, even if that help was just giving him a back room to paint in. 

He arrived at Medda’s and she hugged him the second she saw him. “I read your interview, you poor thing...I didn’t even know you and the girl had broken up! You did, did you not?” 

Jack chuckled sadly and said, “yeah, Miss Medda. We did. It’s alright though, I’m here to uh...Get over her. I’ve gotten myself into a situation, and the best thing I can do is get her off my mind.” 

Medda nodded sympathetically. “I understand,” she said. “You want to go in the back and paint?” 

Jack smiled. “Yeah, thanks,” he said. The two of them walked to one of the back rooms and Jack set up a canvas, collected some water and started painting. Medda leaned on the door and watched him for some time, before leaving him to his own devices.

He was in his own world, thinking to himself about everything that was going on. 

He’d been thinking about Sarah for a month after they’d broken up, without one attempt to move on. The situation with Crutchie was his only try, which was an unhealthy way to go about things. He can’t just replace the object of his infatuation. He had to go into it, slowly.

However, this was not to say that he didn’t feel something when he kissed Crutchie. He surely felt his chest tighten and he fell asleep smiling that night. He had to tell Crutchie everything, especially since he left him alone back at the lodging house. 

Medda returned with sandwiches, and Jack denied them at first, but eventually, he was convinced to take one. 

They sat on the old couch and ate, while Medda looked at the painting. She could tell there was a lot going on in Jack’s head. He was using both kinds of color, cool and warm, instead of just one, like usual. The blues and oranges contrasted each other greatly, but all in the right places. 

“That’s very nice, Jack,” Medda said. “You’re quite the artist.” 

“Oh, thanks, Miss Medda,” said Jack. He looked back at his painting, but not for too long as he wasn’t very confident in his abilities. 

“I can tell you’ve got a lot on your mind,” she said. 

“Yeah, I do. There’s things goin’ on with the whole Sarah thing, and everything else.” 

Someone knocked on the door. When Medda stood up, it was Mush and Race, and they rushed in, looking at Jack intensely. 

“Crutchie’s lookin’ for ya,” said Race. “Somethin’ about the Delanceys and Davey, he says.” 

Mush nodded. “Delanceys overheard somethin’ they wasn’t supposed to, I think.” 

Jack’s heart sunk. He knew the only way Davey could know about Crutchie is if he spoke to Crutchie, and that’s probably what the Delancey’s overheard. 

"I'm really sorry, Miss Medda," said Jack, but she gave him a knowing glance and said, 

"Go. Keep yourself safe, and come back to tell me all about it, okay? Don't get hurt." 

Jack nodded, and soon enough, Race and Mush were on the streets, Jack running behind them.


End file.
